


I, Nightwing

by Ginger Jam (skylite), skylite



Category: Bat Clan - Fandom, Nightwing - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:42:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylite/pseuds/Ginger%20Jam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylite/pseuds/skylite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightwing reflects, in the dark of the night, on the pain, choices, and fears that have defined his life, as well as those of the ones he loves. Written for DarkChilde's 'Fear This!' challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I, Nightwing

**Author's Note:**

> I, Nightwing is rated PG.
> 
> The recognizable characters appearing in this story are © 1999 2000 DC Comics, all rights reserved. They are used without permission, for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made by Indigo for this story. No infringement upon nor challenge to the rights of the copyright holders is intended; nor should any be inferred. This story may not be reproduced without permission.
> 
> ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Nute, Frito, Falstaff, Twiller for beta reading.

One of them at a time -- that I can take.

Don't get me wrong -- I thought I felt my heart stop when I got the call from Bruce about Barbara. I saw her in the hospital bed, pale from loss of blood -- hooked up to machines to sustain her failing life. And part of me glazed over with terror cold as the touch of death.

But I moved through it, I kept going. Losing Barbara would've been like losing a little piece of my soul, but I kept going. And she fought -- she struggled -- and she won. She beat the Joker, refusing to die. Now she's in a wheelchair, and coping with it every day. But she's here. Thank God, she's here.

I remember going through almost the same thing later, when Bane broke Bruce's back. The world could go to hell, for all I cared. The man who was father, brother, and mentor to me was crippled. Broken. At the time, we were sure it was permanent -- the end. Batman would never spread his black wings against the canopy of night and strike fear into the cowardly and superstitious minds of the underworld.

He was crippled, Barbara was crippled -- and then it was just me. But they were alive. It's selfish, I know -- both of them are so proud, so strong, that such injuries were great blows to them. They both had to claw their way back up into functionality. And I was grateful and glad that they did.

Because the one thing I could never bear -- would be to lose my family again.

I used to sneak out on Kory when we were together, and sit up half the night doing research or monitor duty, just so she'd never know I had nightmares about losing Bruce, losing Barbara -- losing her.

I know now why Bruce spends less and less time in the daylight -- in that persona that has to mingle and be social. Bruce Wayne is a millionaire, a philanthropist, a playboy. Greater danger is in that life for him, than there is in the violent existence of the Dark Knight.

The greater danger is in letting people close...letting them in...letting them set up residence in a chamber of his heart.

We had each other when we all were the clan of the Bat. We were family.

Batman had Robin. Robin had Batgirl.

But then, Robin took a bullet -- and I never understood why Bruce had gone so brutally heartless as to take it away from me. He fired me as Robin. He told me that I wasn't good enough if I hadn't been able to dodge a bullet.

I know the truth now: he didn't want -- couldn't bring himself -- to tell me that he retired Robin forcibly so he wouldn't lose the closest thing he has to a son.

I feel it when Tim comes home weak and sick.

I felt it when the Ex-GCPD broke in on Barbara.

And I have to force myself past the paralyzing terror.

I have to push away the nightmarish memories that flash behind my eyelids every time I close my eyes.

Red and gold and green -- the black of my mother's hair against her costume. She was a soaring bird of paradise. My father was a strong, fearless bastion of confidence, laughing with pleasure at cheating death on the high wire.

My imagination cruelly edits in bits of memory I could not have experienced: I can hear the trapeze cable pinging and separating from the acid. I can see it, from where I sit backstage, watching. I can hear the beat of my parents' hearts -- lub dub, lub dub -- synchronized in their talent and their love for each other. I can see, as if my eyes were telescoping lenses, the tiny filaments of cable breaking -- and then ...

Time slows down, as my father reaches for my mother...and the cable SNAPS. They both fall, and fall, and fall...for what seems like forever. The wet, sick, snap-crack-THUD of their bodies hitting the center ring is loud against my ears.

I lost my blood family.

And my new family makes a life of preserving life while cheating death.

And I -- I, Nightwing, do the same.

I train and I practice, making myself stronger.

I keep my body in peak human condition.

Batman is the unshakable wall of impervious stone. Sometimes I find myself trying to push people away; I have to guard against that. I don't want to be the wall of impervious stone.

Robin was, in my time, the dancing prankster....but he grew up into Nightwing. And like the man who trained him, Nightwing is serious, grim, and -- as far as an onlooker can tell -- utterly unflappable. But underneath, I'm Dick Grayson -- human, with a human's fears. I just don't let them subsume my intelligence and overwhelm me.

...Because I know, one day, he and Barbara will both go the way of all flesh. So will Kory. The Titans. Everyone who means anything to me is part of that world -- bright spandex against shadow, fighting the darkest elements humanity has to offer. It comes with the territory...the knowledge that dying of old age, or slipping peacefully away in sleep is a luxury denied us.

When that day inevitably comes, it will be violent. There's no way around it. When that fate unavoidably fulfills and I lose everyone I love ... I will be nothing more than little Dickie Grayson, the helpless little boy under the tent backstage -- again.

And I am not sure that little boy will survive it a second time.

"A penny for your thoughts there, twenty-something wonder?" Barbara has waked, to find me sitting up in bed, thoughts somersaulting through my head.

I stroke her face, kiss her lips, and whisper, "It's nothing." Babs doesn't buy it for a second, but she at least respects that I'm not up for a deep "sensitive guy" moment, talking it over. She draws me close for another kiss, then snuggles in beside me and falls asleep with her head against my chest. She's more comfort to me in times like this than she knows.

The fear is there, but fear can be conquered. It and I go through this once in a while to keep me honest -- so my heart doesn't go cold and numb.

I am Nightwing -- this life is the life that I, and those I love, have chosen. Fear is not a weakness. Knowing fear is a strength.

Conquering it -- is the challenge I face every day.


End file.
